England’s Andrew Johnston Is an Obscure Figure With an Unforgettable Presence

If you did not know that — and as he is ranked 104th in the world, you could be forgiven if you didn’t — all you had to do was listen to the fans near the first tee at Royal Troon on Saturday. Or the ones alongside the second fairway. Or the ones behind the third green.

Everywhere the Englishman Andrew Johnston went here during the third round of the British Open, the unusual (and unusually loud) calls from the crowd broke through the relative calm of the golf tournament like a rogue meat vendor trying to draw attention at an organic market.

“I said in a Sky Sports interview yesterday that I was going to have a Caesar salad for dinner last night,” Johnston recalled after shooting a one-under-par 70, “so some geezer went around shouting, ‘Caesar salad!’ at me for like six holes. That was weird.”

(Full disclosure: Johnston, who estimated he weighs 16 stone, or about 225 pounds, did not actually have a Caesar salad on Friday night. He had a pizza, though he quickly added that it had been only about 10 inches wide. “It wasn’t like a 20-inch, ‘Win a T-shirt if you finish it’ type of thing,” he said.)

While Henrik Stenson (12 under par) and Phil Mickelson (11 under) were the leaders on Saturday — and will be again on Sunday — Johnston, 27, who begins the final round in fourth place at five under, is clearly the people’s choice.

The reasons are manifold: He has a remarkable beard, the sort that is so bushy you wonder if he might keep tees or scorecard pencils in it (it could also be used to warm small children).

He has an enigmatic nickname, which he explained was given to him at age 12 by a friend who thought Johnston’s long, curly hair — he is one-quarter Jamaican, he said — looked like “a big bit of beef.”

He is also an underdog, playing in only his third major championship and, as recently as three years ago, was pondering giving up professional golf because he had been playing so badly he wasn’t sure he had enough money to buy Christmas presents.

Most important, however, is this: He smiles. Many top golfers keep their heads down during a round, their eyes locked on their target, or their ball, or their caddie. Even between shots, nothing breaks their singular focus. There might be a brief nod or a tiny waggle of fingers to an adoring spectator, but little else.

Johnston grins. He looks up. He waves. He laughs. During the few moments before he actually steps in to hit a shot, he does not acknowledge fans who (continue to) shout his name, but, he said: “Once I’ve hit the shot or I’m walking somewhere, I’m going to acknowledge it, man. Because I don’t need to concentrate then.”

Sergio García played with Johnston on Saturday. García, who is from Spain, always has plenty of support from the European crowds (and did again in this round), but even he conceded that Johnston’s growing following had been difficult to miss.

“Any characters in our game are good,” García said. “And he is a character.”

Few would disagree. Johnston grew up outside London, turned professional in 2009 and bounced around several smaller tours for a few years before winning twice on Europe’s second-tier tour in 2014.

His first brush with fame came in April, in part because he won the European Tour’s Spanish Open, and in part for what he said afterward, when asked for his reaction.

Referring to his home course, North Middlesex Golf Club, he said, “I can’t wait to get back to North Mid, get hammered and see my mum and brother.”

(He did exactly that, while wearing what appeared to be some sort of bird costume. There is video to document the events.)

At Troon, Johnston’s tournament began on Thursday with what he described as a complete shank of a shot on the fourth hole — “I haven’t hit one like that since I was, like, 12” — but he bounced back from that double bogey and shot a two-under 69. Another 69 on Friday, which also featured several fans waving hamburgers at Johnston, put him among the leaders.

On Saturday, he reveled in the attention while producing some spectacular golf. On the 13th hole, Johnston holed out his chip for a birdie that sent the crowd into ecstasy and Johnston’s mother into tears.

Johnston has battled some nerves as the biggest tournament of his career has gone on, but he is hardly paralyzed. After his rounds, he has spent time with his family, including his sister and his niece, who are visiting from the United States. On Friday night, he posted to Instagram a video of Summer examining his beard (she called it “lumpy”). The night before, he admitted that Summer had whipped him in a match of Top Trumps, which involves a deck of cards that have cats on them and, according to Johnston, is “a proper kid’s game.”

On Sunday, after a possible rematch with Summer, Johnston will go out in the second-to-last group and attempt to chase down Mickelson and Stenson. He said he believed he could win — “Because why play if you don’t back yourself?” — but he was also planning to soak in the moment, just as he did at the end of his third round.

The standing ovation he received was long and loud, and Johnston putted out with a smile that was as wide as the brim of his hat. He held his putter aloft. He nodded his head to every corner of the grandstand. And then he walked off toward the scorer’s tent, the calls of “Beef! Beef!” reverberating above the din.

A version of this article appears in print on , on Page SP4 of the New York edition with the headline: An Obscure Figure With an Unforgettable Presence. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe